


When In Doubt

by NephilimEQ



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Little bit of smut, M/M, Spn Writing Challenge, kinda sorta, trope fun, truth spell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephilimEQ/pseuds/NephilimEQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While protecting Dean, Cas gets hit with a spell from a witch...but it doesn't seem to affect him. However, Dean seems to be having problems keeping his thoughts to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When In Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Writing Challenge on Tumblr. Last minute panic seems to be my best muse, I don't know why. I had about a third of it written, and the rest came out in the span of an hour. Very happy with this one!

 

** When In Doubt **

Dean walked into the condemned house, his flashlight out and his knife at the ready, while Sam was in front of him and Cas was behind him. The witch that they were tracking, Elise King, had already put two people in the hospital and Dean had no desire to run into her now. Sam, following up on some purchases that she’d made at the local “magic” shop, had tracked her to this house, and they were scoping it out. Dean silently prayed that she wasn’t there.

He heard a creak and he quickly pivoted on his back heel…and let out a sight of frustration. It was a damn rat.

Just as he turned back around he heard Cas yell out, “Dean!” and he was startled out of his reverie as the angel shoved him out of the way, taking the brunt of a spell that had been unexpectedly sent in their direction from the direction of the kitchen.

From where Cas’s hand was pressed against his shoulder, he could feel the spell hit Cas and nearly knock the both of them off of their feet.

“Dean!”

That was Sam. He ran into the room, glanced at the two of them to make sure that they were all right, and then took off into the kitchen, his own knife already in his hand. Dean let out a low groan of frustration and then followed after his brother, ignoring the slightly hurt look on Castiel’s face as he brushed off the angel’s hand.

They were too late.

Tired, exhausted, and none of them willing to talk about what had happened, they got back in the Impala and headed back to the motel.

Sam, surprisingly enough, was the one to turn on Cas first, saying, “Cas, what the _hell_ were you thinking, stepping in front of Dean like that? I mean, not that I’m not grateful,” he quickly added, seeing Dean’s affronted look. “But you’re not entirely an angel anymore and it was one huge goddamn risk you took!”

Cas let out a frustrated sigh and said, “She is young and inexperienced, and I highly doubt that her barely planned spell would have any effect on me.”

Dean, in defense of his brother, spoke up.

“Maybe so, Cas, but we don’t know that for sure, so it was _some_ risk…”

Cas just shook his head, and said, sounding beyond exasperated with both brothers, “I’m fine, Dean. Now,” he added in an almost brusque manner, “I would like to take a shower. May I please leave this conversation?”

Both of the hunters, taken aback by the angel’s tone, nodded, and then watched as Cas stalked towards the bathroom, stripping off his coat in an almost violent manner as he left.

Dean stared after him a moment longer than was strictly necessary, and said in a low voice, “God, that ass…”

Sam coughed.

“Excuse me?”

Dean, suddenly aware of what he’d just said, shook his head and said, “Nothing.”

Sam smirked.

“You sure about that, Dean?”

Dean glared at him.

Sam fell silent, while Dean tried to figure out what the _hell_ had just happened. Not only had Cas been uncharacteristically brash with them, but Dean had just let slip one of those things that he only said in his mind, and _never_ out loud, and he couldn’t figure out why.

Brushing it off, he turned to his bag and pulled out a clean shirt, one that wasn’t covered in cobwebs and dust, and then reached down and yanked off his boots and socks. He knew that Sam would take the shower next, because the three of them had actually developed a routine when they were out on hunts together. One room, Cas and Sam took the beds, and Dean took the small couch. Sam was too tall for the couch, and Cas needed the comfort of the bed more than Dean did, so it all worked out fine. And the order of the showers was Cas, Sam, and then Dean.

Unexpectedly, Sam said, “Hey, Dean, you go next. I’m gonna go and hit up the store for some actual food. Maybe bring back a slice of pie?”

Dean grinned and threw back, “If there’s pie, I might actually love you, Sammy.”

Sam snorted and then grabbed his boat and left the room, heading down to the store that was only two blocks away from where they were staying.

All too soon, the sound of the shower died, and Cas walked out of the bathroom...holy fuck, what the hell was he doing? Instead of being dressed in his usual clothes, all that was on him was a towel. It was wrapped loosely on his narrow hips, threatening to come off with any sudden movement, and it took Dean a moment longer than it should have to wrench his eyes from the angel’s waist and look him in the eye.

“Cas…why aren’t you dressed?”

Not noticing Dean’s discomfort, he looked around the room absently and said, “I forgot to bring my comb. I was wondering if I could borrow yours?”

The hunter nodded and quickly grabbed one from his bag and then, after discreetly adjusting himself, walked over and handed it to him. He tried not to stare, but it was very difficult to _not_ stare as a drop of water slipped down Castiel’s collarbone and then traced itself along the lean line of his chest all the way down to his right hipbone…and then under the towel.

“Here.”

Castiel took the comb and Dean wrenched himself away from the angel, but not before the words, “I would let you fuck me right now,” escaped his lips.

Dean froze.

Shit. He had _not_ meant to say that out loud. God-fucking-dammit, why the hell had he just said that _out loud?_

Cas stared at him, comb in hand, and then swallowed, looking decidedly uncomfortable. He then turned and left the room, leaving Dean feeling morbidly embarrassed behind him. What the _hell_ had he just said? And _why_ had he fucking said it? Why hadn’t it stayed in his goddamn head like it always did? That was twice now that he’d said things that never left the heavily guarded and locked cage of thoughts inside his mind. And it more than freaked him out.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he ignored the sound of the water running for a brief moment and then shutting off. He ignored the sound of rustling clothes as Cas pulled on his own sleep clothes: one of Dean’s old t-shirts and a pair of Dean’s old flannel pants. The blue ones.

As soon as he heard the bathroom door swing back open, Dean said, “Sorry ‘bout before,” and tried to cut off the whole uncomfortable line of questioning that he was certain the angel was going to have.

Cas didn’t respond, and instead walked around to the other bed and sat across from him, their knees brushing against each other.  Cas then spoke, his voice even and unaffected, as though he were talking about the weather, and replied, “Apparently the witch affected us with a truth spell,” and as soon as he said it, everything suddenly made sense. Dean felt like an idiot for not seeing it earlier. It was the oldest trope in the book, wasn’t it? A damn _truth spell?_ And he had Sam to blame for even _knowing_ the term ‘trope’. Him and his stupid fan fiction.

Licking his lips, Dean tried to keep from saying anything else incriminating...not that it would _matter_ , what with what he’d already said, he looked back at Cas and said, in a tight voice, “Why don’t you seem to be affected? I mean, you’re still, well, _you._ ”

Cas looked thoughtful for a moment and then replied, “I believe it’s because I was in contact with you at the time. Also, what little is left of my grace protected me from the effects of the spell, so it moved from me on to you.” He gave him a look and added, “She was rather clumsy in her execution, so I stand by what I said before. She is a beginner and is not well-versed in the proper use of such spells. Why she would use a truth spell to attack…well, it speaks of someone who is not familiar with what they are doing.”

Dean nodded, agreeing with him.

“Actually, that makes a lot of sense.”

They fell silent, both of them still not mentioning the elephant in the room. What Dean had said earlier.

Finally, Dean broke the silence, saying, “Look, man, about what I said earlier, I…fuck, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just--”

“I’m not an idiot, Dean.”

Thrown by the interruption and the cold tone in his voice, the hunter looked at him, his eyes narrowing at the angel’s words.  He shifted on the bed, pulling his knees further away from Cas’s, trying to maintain some distance, but then Castiel’s hand shot out and firmly grasped Dean’s knee and dragged him back towards him with hardly any effort.

“You do know how prayer works, right, Dean?” he said, his breath brushing against Dean’s face.

Dean nodded mutely, trying to keep up with Castiel’s changing, almost mercurial moods.

“Then you should know,” he continued, “That it involves invoking the name of the angel or deity that you are praying to. That _every_ time you say their name, they are aware of it being called, even if not in an _actual_ prayer. Every. Single. Time.”

That was when Dean realized what Cas was saying, and his stomach suddenly felt as though it had relocated to the region of his throat. Oh, god…that meant…shit. Dean closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to ignore the heat that was spreading through him from where Cas’s hand rested on his knee. Well, _rested_ was too passive a term for what it was currently doing. The angel’s fingers gripped him tightly, while his thumb moved aimlessly back and forth along his inner thigh, sending sparks up his leg to…other regions.

How many times had he brought himself to completion thinking about those strong hands manhandling him and the blue eyes that were attached to them? How many times had the angel’s name been on his lips in those private moments of bliss?

“I’ve…I’ve tried to put it to the side,” Cas muttered, almost as if he had forgotten that Dean was there. “But you make it increasingly difficult for me to do so, Dean. When you…bring yourself pleasure…my name is consistently the one that you cry out, and hearing it in such a way is very distracting, especially when there are only a few feet of concrete walls separating us. Knowing that I could actually _be_ there, helping you…”

He looked back up at Dean, who had opened his eyes, and stared at him in the certain way that he always did.

“I can remove this spell…but I find that I am reluctant to, Dean. I fell that it is the only way that I can force you to be honest with me…”

Just as Dean opened his mouth to protest, the door swung open and Sam walked in, toting what looked like three bags of food, one of which looked like it was a whole key lime pie. Cas suddenly pulled back, dropping his hand from Dean’s knee, while Dean’s head and body took a moment longer to catch up.

“Found your pie, Dean,” Sam said, smiling wide as he put the bags on the small table under the window. “Oh, and I got some bread, peanut butter, and grape jelly for Cas.”

Sam then fully turned and faced them…and his expression subtly changed as he noticed the charged atmosphere of the room and the lack of distance between his older brother and the wayward angel. His mouth opened as if to say something, but then closed and instead he said, “You guys wanna eat now, or later? Cause I’m gonna grab a shower and then crash for a couple of hours before I get my food. I mean,” he added, starting to ramble, “Unless you wanna eat together or…”

His voice trailed off, and Dean quickly jumped in, saying, “Well, I’m starving, so I’ll eat while you shower, and then I’ll grab my shower after you.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

Cas remained silent during the whole thing, watching the exchange quietly.  But as soon as Sam walked into the bathroom, he approached Dean from behind, placing a firm, unyielding hand to the older hunter’s back as he spoke softly into his ear, “Dean…do you like it when I touch you?”

Before Dean could stop it, he let out a soft sigh of pleasure, nodded once, and said, “Yes…god, yes, I love it.”

He clenched his jaw, trying to keep from saying anything more, but then Cas asked another question.

“Do you like it when I touch you…here?” His left hand moved over Dean’s hip and gripped it painfully tight, forcing a low groan from the hunter, and his hips moved of their own volition, arching into Cas’s touch, his body betraying him all too easily.

“Y…Yes,” he breathed out.

Cas then proceeded to move Dean to the bed, even as Dean protested, “Cas…Sammy, he’s just on the other side of the wall…he can…we can’t…”

Cas smirked at him, and Dean thought he might melt under the heat of the angel’s gaze. Castiel shook his head and said, sounding smug and amused at the same time, “Your brother, quite frankly, Dean, showers like a girl. We have at least forty minutes,” and then pressed him right into the mattress.

Dean stared up at him and took a deep breath, still not quite sure what was going on.

“Now, Dean…” He straddled his waist. “Let’s see what we can do about these fantasies of yours….”

In an unexpectedly bold move, the angel reached down and pulled Dean’s shirt off of him, and then proceeded to attack his belt and zipper, somehow managing to remove the pants in only a few strong tugs of the unforgiving denim fabric, leaving Dean lying beneath him in nothing but his boxers.

Castiel’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight of Dean almost naked beneath him.

“So beautiful,” he said softly, running a hand down the center of Dean’s chest. Dean writhed beneath him, wanting to be furious with the angel as he took shameless advantage of the fact that Dean could not lie, but at the same horribly turned on by the fact that Cas was taking control of him so effortlessly.

“Now, Dean,” he said a second time. “Tell me what goes on in your mind. Tell me what I do that renders you so completely helpless.”

Unable to keep it from happening, Dean babbled out, “You touch me, everywhere, and…and you control me.”

Cas’s eyebrow went up at that and the corner of his mouth twitch upward a second time, and he moved his body down, so that his thighs were on either side of Dean’s calves. He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to Dean’s soft stomach and then murmured, “I can work with that. Besides,” he said, pressing a second kiss slightly lower than the first, causing Dean’s hips to rise in response, “Your body seems to agree with being… _handled._ ”

At that point, Cas swiped his tongue just under the edge of Dean’s boxers.

Dean’s mind went blank as the air unexpectedly rushed out of him.

He had the presence of mind to reach down and tangle his fingers into the angel’s hair, but was out of it enough that neither he nor Cas heard the bathroom door opening and closing, and Sam walking into the room, dressed and with soaked hair. They both became aware of it, however, when Sam exclaimed, “Jesus, guys! I leave you alone and…shit, I did _not_ need to see that.”

Dean looked over, dutifully embarrassed, and saw his little brother shielding his eyes with his hand, his palm facing towards them.

“Your…your shower,” the older hunter managed to ask nonsensically, but Sam knew exactly what he meant and he shook his head and replied, “The water went cold, so I had to cut it short. Now, I have to ask...what the _hell_ is going on, here?”

Castiel, the only one of the three of them not embarrassed, answered in his usual monotonous tone, “The spell that hit us was a truth spell. It affected Dean and his feelings for me became impossible to lie about. I was in the process of taking advantage of that fact. Now, I would like to continue to do so, so might it be possible for you to leave?”

Letting out a huff of air, Sam nodded, and grabbed his bag as he left the room and said over his shoulder as he walked out, “I’m getting another room for the night. And…try to keep it down? Please?”

Cas said, straight faced, “I can make no promises, Sam.”

The younger brother groaned and rolled his eyes as he slammed the door behind him, and that was when the angel turned his attention back on Dean.

“Now, where were we?”

Dean wasn’t sure how to answer, so he simply grabbed Cas’s hand and placed it back to where it was before, and blue eyes locked onto green with a sharp intensity and Dean gave him a tremulous smile, betraying his nerves. Cas just smiled back at him and then smirked.

Cas leaned back down and let his tongue linger low on Dean’s stomach, along the edge of his boxers, knowing that he was teasing the hunter in the absolute worst way, but he had no problems with that. Actually, he was quite happy with it and was looking forward to seeing what sort of reactions he could draw from the man beneath him. The instant that Dean had admitted that he wanted him and that he’d imagined him in his bed before, Cas was thrilled and silently pleased at the opportunity that he finally had to have Dean Winchester completely under his control.

He hitched his hands up Dean’s firmly muscled thighs, and tried not to groan out loud at how firm those thighs really were.

“Oh, Dean,” he breathed against the hunter’s skin, pleased when he felt him jump. “You have no idea how long I have waited to hear you say those words. You have no idea just how long I have wondered if you ever felt the same towards me.” He took another deep inhale, savoring the scent of salty skin and musk that was pure Dean. “I need to find a way to thank that witch,” he muttered against the hunter’s inner thigh, his tongue snaking out to trace an irregular path upwards, eliciting some delightful noises from Dean’s throat.

Cas smirked.

There was no more doubt in his mind who Dean belonged to.

* * *

Elise King was confused when she opened her front door and saw a letter lying on her front porch. Hesitating when she saw no return address, she carefully picked it up and a puzzled smile appeared on her lips as she saw the stationary on the outside that had her first name in elegant calligraphy.

She carefully opened it…and grinned at what she read.

_“You are cordially invited to the wedding of Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester, on June 21 st, 2017.”_

The address was listen below and she smiled when she saw the phrase in a shimmering, pale blue-green font on the bottom of the thick, cream cardstock, that simply said, _“ ‘When in doubt, tell the truth.’ – Mark Twain”_.

On a smaller piece of paper was a handwritten note. Elise carefully read it and grinned.

_Dear Elise,_ it began. _For a “novice”, you were very difficult to track down, but I want you to know that we did find you. The brothers are still determined to bring you to justice, but I feel that won’t be necessary. Just as in the stories, not every witch is evil. I followed up on several of your other “attacks”, and know your secret: You are not a witch, but a wayward cupid. Your mockery of a truth spell worked, and for that I thank you. Without your help, I would not be celebrating this wonderful occasion._

Elise gently touched the page and her grin softened to an indulgent smile.

_Now, as to regards to your method, you leave much to be desired…but that is not necessarily a bad thing. I do not know if you will show, but if you do, know that you are fully welcome. Turn this over._

She did.

It read, _P.S. Dean says thank you._

Elise smiled.

It was always good to help out a fellow angel.

 

 


End file.
